Shifting Sands
by Fissie
Summary: A one-shot, featuring Agent Sands and Gambit. Gambit meets up with Sands in Mexico who is said to have information about a certain man that committed a certain crime that Gambit is certainly not happy about.


A fic featuring two of my favorite characters. It might be the first of a fruitful collaboration between the two personas. Enjoy.

This is posted in response to Star-of-Chaos' personal challenge to write a story with a happy ending. And happy it is. Sort of. The title makes no sense whatsoever.

Rated for random killings, slight alcohol abuse and a bit of language.

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_Shifting Sands_

Fissie

'Las Puertas del Diablo'; one of the sleaziest cafes in Mexico. The place where the scum of the earth meets to do scummy things. The bartender was cleaning glasses with spit and a dirty towel, the radio played some soft Mexican music and men and women were conspiring.

A man sat at the bar, black hat, black clothing, black shades, cigarette in one hand, beer in the other, gun in the other. His name was Agent Sands, CIA officer and by far the most corrupt cop in this world. He was waiting for a man to come in. A man who needed information about a certain man that Sands was more than happy to inform about.

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Gambit checked the address written on the post-it: 'Las Puertas del Diablo'. This was it. This was where he was going to meet a man that had information about a man that had caused the recent mutant attack. Information about Javier Mendoza. The man had called the Xavier's Institute with the announcement 'I have something you want'. Of course, it was Cyclops that had answered the phone and he had hung up, thinking it was a prank call. The second time, Gambit had answered the phone and he was met with a long line of curses first, before the man was able to talk to him. 'Rumor has it there's been another mutant attack' the man had said smugly 'It seems to be the trend nowadays'. After Gambit had requested the man to 'cut the crap and start talking', the man had informed him that who he was searching for was in Mexico. And that he would inform Gambit further in 'Las Puertas del Diablo'. So Gambit had told the X-men that he had business to do and left that very afternoon.

Gambit entered the bar and looked around. He recognized the man he was supposed to meet without much trouble. 'You will recognize me by my black hat', the man had said through the phone. Apparently the man didn't think having three arms was a salient enough feature. Gambit walked up to him.

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Sands noticed someone closing in on him. It could be the man he had spoken to on the phone. The person's Cajun origins became apparent as he spoke. '''Ello.''

Sands merely nodded without so much as turning to the man next to him.

''Y' wanted t' talk?'' Remy asked subtlety. Last thing he wanted was everyone in this place knowing he wanted information on Mendoza.

''Later.'' Sands said taking another sip from his beer. ''First, have a drink.''

Gambit shrugged, ordered a beer and sat down in silence. He took another look at the man next to him. Being a Thief as he had been, he was used to these type of meetings. The weird meetings, the harmless chit-chat with hidden meaning. So he decided to see where this would lead to.

The bartender got a beer out of the fridge and headed back to Gambit to serve it to him.

''I feel a certain mal air here...'' Sands said as he lifted his head and began taking in his surroundings, as if tasting the ambiance.

Gambit looked outside. ''Gon' rain soon.''

''Not what I meant.'' The man said in the same odd tone. ''I feel the delicate balance of this bar disrupted.'' He waved his hand gesturing that something was amiss.

''Try sittin' on a different stool.'' Gambit said dryly as he took a first sip of his recently served beer.

Suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere Sands stood up, throwing his stool back and shot the bartender. The man didn't have time to defend himself as he fell down on the floor with three new holes in his body. Sands sat down again and took another sip. ''Balance restored.''

''Ah.'' Gambit said equally dry as he took another drink. Why was he always the one who ended up with the assignments that included talking and interacting with psychotic murderous mad men?

The bar went silent, nobody dared speaking anymore, nobody dared moving. As sleazy as the bar was, they weren't really used to this. The only sound they heard was Mexican music from the radio.

They sat like that, in silence, for another five seconds. Until Sands shot the radio.

''Why isn't anyone leaving this place screaming?'' He asked looking up irritated to no one in particular.

''Don' ask me.'' Gambit shrugged as he looked around the bar. Indeed no one was moving. All the people looked like they wanted to leave, but no one dared.

At Gambit's reply Sands stood up and began shooting in the air. ''Go! Leave!'' People began walking out slowly at first. ''Rapido! Venga!'' Running as fast as they could second.

Sands sat back down and gulped down the rest of his beer. ''Now we can talk.'' He said satisfied.

Realizing what the point of the shooting had been, Gambit spoke. ''We could've jus' met after closin' time.''

Sands turned to the man next to him. ''Do you want me to talk?'' He asked annoyed.

''Y' didn' hav' t' shoot de bartender.'' Gambit continued.

Sands sighed. ''Does it bother you?''

''He didn' give m' change back yet.'' Gambit tried to sound casually, but he really wasn't fond of random killing people for silence.

''Just give me another beer.'' Sands said. Gambit never was one for following orders, but he felt like having a beer himself too. So, he went to the fridge behind the bar and took out two more beers.

Again five minutes of silence passed. Gambit decided to say something. ''Why d'y' wear lipstick on y'r face?'' It was a stupid question, but it was one that he had been wondering about. The man had thick lines of lipstick running down his face. Besides, the best way to talk to an informant was through pointless questions.

''It's blood.'' Sands answered dryly.

''It's lipstick.'' Gambit sniffed the air without coming closer to the man. ''Cherry blossom perfumed lipstick.''

''It's blood.'' Sands insisted irritated. ''From where my eyes used to be.'' He pointed at his shades to further prove his point.

Silence returned to the bar again as they drank another bottle.

''Cherry blossom perfumed blood?'' Gambit maintained.

''Shut up.'' Sands demanded while firming his grip on the gun in one of his hands.

Gambit did. His life motto, 'carpe diem', was slowly turning into 'don't upset the madman next to you'.

''Mendoza is in town.'' Sands said.

''Here?'' Gambit knew this man had information, but he hadn't expected to find out about Mendoza's whereabouts so soon.

''Did I speak Swahili?'' That tone of irritation did not leave his voice.

''Where does he stay?'' Gambit asked.

''I don't know.'' Sands said, slightly less annoyed.

Gambit took the silence that followed as an 'go on ask me another question' type of silence. And since he that man had interest in finding Mendoza too, he decided to ask why. ''Why do you care 'bout Mendoza? You a mutant?'' Did that qualify as a stupid question? The man had three arms, after all.

''No.'' He said first. Then he lowered his face. ''He cost me my eyes.'' He retorted with an air for dramatics.

''Really?'' Apparently asking stupid questions was becoming his daytime job.

Sands looked at him, well looked...moved his head towards Gambit's direction. ''No. He just irritates me. He invades my...personal working space.''

''Right.'' Gambit knew all about 'personal working spaces' and knew not to meddle with them.

''The man doesn't like mutants.'' Sands stated.

''I know.'' Now it was Gambit's turn to sound annoyed. ''I was dere.'' Gambit though back at that incident, as they called it. Massacre was a more proper word. Gambit had been there, immobilized, caught, while people screamed and cried of pain and horror. He had called for back-up, but it came too late. The damage had been done; this was the second time he had been responsible for a mutant massacre. But this time the causer would pay. This time…

''Ah. Driven by revenge, then?'' He hoped the Cajun was. Revenge was one of his favorite killing motives.

''Nope. I need clues an' evidence t' nail him down. Den I wait f'r de rest o' de team.''

''Officially.'' Ah, yes. This was Sands' line of expertise.

''Oui.'' The Cajun answered.

''And unofficially?'' Sands even managed a smile.

''Dat moder fucker's dead.'' Yes, this annoying speech impaired Cajun would prove to be a nice revenge-driven allay.

''I figured. I know someone who can tell us where he is.'' Sands stood up and turned to Gambit. ''Sands.'' He reached out to shake Gambit's hand.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8

What is it with slaughterhouses that make them a perfect place to threaten someone? Is it the stench of rotting leftovers in the Mexican sun? Is it the macabre look of dead meat dangling from the meat hooks? Is it the giant butcher's knife Sands was cleaning his nails with? Is it that the man he and Gambit were threatening was hanging upside down from one foot above a giant meat processor?

''What part of 'kill him' didn't you understand?'' Sands shouted to the Cajun that was holding the man.

''De part where you say 'please'.'' Gambit said with a mad grin. It was nice to work with a man that had the same style as he had in threatening people. It had been a while.

''Could you tear every limb from his body slowly and painfully, please.'' Sands asked in an exasperated voice.

''Sure, mon ami.'' Gambit replied.

''Thank you.'' Sands said sounding a bit more composed.

''I'll talk! I'll talk!'' The dangling man shouted.

Ah yes, this could be the wonderful start of a fruitful cooperation between X-men and corrupt cop.

''Talk? Oh, come on. Y'r ruinin' m' fun here.'' Gambit pouted.

''Please! I'll talk!'' The man begged.

''He said 'please'.'' Sands said in the man's defense.

''Fine.'' Gambit replied annoyed.

The man told them where Mendoza was hiding and they let him go. He ran away as fast as he could.

Sands smiled and turned to Gambit.

''You know,'' Gambit started. ''Y' need t' stop usin' all dat lipstick, y'have no idea how stupid y' look.''

The smile on Sands' face disappeared. ''You need to learn the English language, you have no idea how stupid you sound.''

''Dat not what I hear de ladies say.'' Gambit grinned.

''Ladies? Even I can see they're not woman.'' Sands replied. A productive cooperation this would be.

8-8-8-8-8-8-8

They entered the bar below the place Mendoza was at. ''Hello, gentlemen. How are you feeling today?'' Sands started.

''Quien es ese hijo puta?'' One of the men shouted.

''We be lookin' f'r our dearest friend, Javier Mendoza. Y' haven' seen him anywhere, did y'?''

In one movement five guns were aimed at the two men. In that same movement, Sands got out his two guns and got ready to shoot.

''Don'.'' Gambit stopped him.

''What?'' Sands asked surprised.

''Don' kill dem.''

''What?!'' The reply was surprised and annoyed this time.

''We're here f'r Mendoza, not dem.''

''But I shoot people. It's what I do. I'm good at it.'' Sands whined.

''Don' kill dem.'' Gambit clarified. ''Didn' say nothin' bout injurin'.''

''Ah. I'm good at that too.'' At that point he began shooting. Gambit doubted some of them would survive these so-called injuries, but that was really not his concern. He was here for Mendoza, after all.

They went upstairs to the room they knew was Mendoza's, opened the door and entered. ''Mendoza.'' Gambit spoke harshly.

''What?'' Mendoza, a chubby, short man, who was combing the few hairs on his head, turned around and paled at the sight of the two men.

''He looks dead already.'' Sands joked as he walked up to the mini-bar in the room.

''Good.'' Gambit wasn't joking at all. The gun in his hand pointed at the almost bald Mexican and he closed in on the man. He was one dead Mexican. ''You killed dose children.'' He spoke with anger evident in his voice.

''What children?'' Mendoza feigned innocence and surprise.

''The innocent little ones.'' Sands spoke up from behind Gambit's back while pouring himself a drink.

Gambit turned around to Sands. ''Shut up.'' This was his territory and Sands wasn't going to mess it up. He directed himself back to Mendoza and grabbed his collar. ''You killed dem all.''

''An unfortunate mishap.'' Mendoza tried.

''Unfortunate f'r you, mon ami.'' Gambit said as he put his finger on the trigger.

Now, there are many proverbs on 'a guilty conscience', but there's one that everyone forgets: A guilty conscience has not clue about timing. Just as Gambit was about to pull the trigger, the part of his brain conditioned by Xavier, the same part he thought he had left at Wechester, started talking.

''Eh, Cajun? Did you forget how to pull the trigger?'' Sands asked as he put down his drink.

''He ain' worth it.'' Gambit stated as he threw the man on the floor.

''Yes he is.'' At that point, Sands took out a gun and shot Mendoza. Gambit looked at Sands in disgust. ''What?'' Sands said in his own defense. ''It would've been a big anti-climax to let him live, now.'' He really didn't understand what this Cajun's problem was. He came to seek revenge, he got it. End.

''I was going to turn him in.'' Gambit told the agent annoyed.

Sands looked around for a bit, as if searching something. ''I don't seem to care. But what are _you_ whining about? You didn't kill him. No blood on your hands.''

''Non.'' Gambit stepped over the body and searched through the file cabinets in the room; the whole organization was documented there. Enough evidence to put everyone in jail for a long time; the X-men could be happy. And he couldn't really say he was very sad about that man's death. Actually he was quite happy about it. He closed the dead man's eyes and looked at him. ''Jus' cherry blossom perfumed lipstick.''

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A/N Ha! I made it! A happy ending. Oh well, maybe someday I will make a true 'everyone happy everyone smiling' type of ending, but this is happy enough for me.

Drop a note if you liked it!


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